


Could You Love This? (Will This One Be Right? Well If I'm Being Honest, I’m Hoping It Might)

by handsinacapitches



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Falling In Love, if Beca and Emily had fallen in love in Emily's first year and Beca's last
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsinacapitches/pseuds/handsinacapitches
Summary: "It was home in how she felt like for the first time that someone wasn’t pumping her full of air just to let her go. That someone had finally tied the knot on her balloon and she could float forever. She thought that perhaps the feelings were too soon, but then they kept playing and Beca sung the harmony she’d been hearing in her head, one she hadn’t told anyone about, and she couldn’t help but riff a bit on the guitar to complete the three part chord.(Beca made her feel safe improvising. She found all her life it was easier to plan out her words so she didn’t ramble, but Emily thought that perhaps Beca liked her ramblings. At least in music).(Beca liked them all the time)."Or the falling in love of Emily Junk and Beca Mitchell.





	Could You Love This? (Will This One Be Right? Well If I'm Being Honest, I’m Hoping It Might)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the dodie song "If I'm Being Honest," I felt the need to write some bemily and here we are

If she’s honest, Emily’s not sure when she fell in love with Beca. And she’s not sure how Beca fell in love with her. She knew she was odd, was new to the Bellas, Beca was _so_ cool, and Emily hated flirting and simply had no ability in the area (it made her feel awkward), but Stacie said it’s good for confidence.

She always did her best to impress her, played her songs and tried to write when Beca was there. She never got anything extremely good written, but when she played them for the other woman things changed. Beca always had good arrangement ideas and as she played guitar, the older of the two would often jump on the electric piano in the corner and play along.

They spoke silently, both knew what chords the other was going to play without it being said. For Emily, it felt like she could breath for the first time. Like returning somewhere she didn’t know even existed to realize that it was home.

It was home in how she felt like for the first time that someone wasn’t pumping her full of air just to let her go. That someone had finally tied the knot on her balloon and she could float forever. She thought that perhaps the feelings were too soon, but then they kept playing and Beca sung the harmony she’d been hearing in her head, one she hadn’t told anyone about, and she couldn’t help but riff a bit on the guitar to complete the three part chord.

(Beca made her feel safe improvising. She found all her life it was easier to plan out her words so she didn’t ramble, but Emily thought that perhaps Beca liked her ramblings. At least in music).

(Beca liked them all the time).

As she slid softly down the fretboard, Emily hit the octave change: a high note that illustrated exactly how she felt in that moment, and Beca stopped playing. The abruptness of it startled Emily who looked up to find the older woman just watching her. It made her turn red as Chloe’s hair because this is the only type of flirting she felt confident in.

(She wasn’t even sure if it constituted as flirting. Stacie said it was more about how Beca found her “extremely attractive”).

Emily continued her riffing, trilled softly as she brought her fingers back down the octave and played a chord gently before she smiled shyly at Beca. Her heart was beating fast in the best way possible and she thought that if she could flirt like that with everybody, if everybody understood her the way Beca did, she would have dated someone way sooner.

And she supposed this form of whatever-it-is only worked on Beca. That was fine with her. She didn’t want to communicate with anyone else like she just did anyway.

Stacie (who honestly just wanted one of the two of them to get off their ass and make a move and didn’t care how she made it happen) argued that’s she’s “smoking hot,” which seemed to be what Beca thought as well because no matter what she wore the woman always seemed to be staring. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with the clothes though.

(It didn’t, Beca just thought that she’s beautiful all the time).

She was just so used to being the joke. People took pleasure in making fun of her when she was younger, so when Beca asked her out she was sure it was a prank.

(She hated that she was wired that way, but high school taught her that defenses were needed at all times).

Because no matter how she hoped, nothing ever came to fruition like she wished. She crossed fingers, elbows, legs, even toes. Of course, it did absolutely nothing and she just ended up looking even more idiotic but that wasn’t the point. Emily just wanted something to go her way for once. And she was just thankful that if nothing else worked out for the rest of her life, one thing did: Beca.

She wanted to tell Beca that all the songs had been about her since the day they met, that she picked up electric guitar again because Beca asked her to play for one of her mixes and she couldn’t say no. She didn’t tell Beca how she hadn’t played seriously since junior year in high school, she just began to practice again. Turned up the amp despite Amy’s protests and Stacie’s knowing smirk.

(Emily did her best to glare back at the latter, but she didn’t have it in her. She knew everything Stacie was implying was true).

It was all worth it when she saw the way Beca looked at her. It made her feel like there weren’t just butterflies in her stomach, but everywhere. She remembered the way the other woman couldn’t take her eyes off her. Beca looked at her and she saw more than just a magnetism that could kill them both. She saw that Beca understood what she was saying. She wasn’t being looked at because of what was on the outside, and for the first time someone saw what was on the inside.

(It still helped that she had always slung her electric guitar low on her hip because it was more comfy and Emily knew that the DJ appreciated the look she was sporting regardless).

But what made her blush and her slides across the frets a little messy, was that she had just let someone into her soul for the first time. Beca didn’t seem to mind the messiness of it, even seemed charmed and that made her even more happy that this was the first person who really saw her.

Emily was too afraid to tell her all of that. All she knew was that she was in love with the way Beca tapped along to the beat in the car. She was in love with the way Beca sent her texts with the one word caption ‘You’ and a song that reminded her of Emily. She was in love with the way Beca said her name like every syllable was relevant and important. She was in love with the way Beca looked at her like Emily was the only one in the room, the way Beca smiled. She was in love with how Beca turned the radio up all the way (sometimes past what was good for the eardrums), how sometimes they didn’t need to talk, just to listen to the music and they knew what the other was thinking. She was in love with Beca’s voice. She was in love with the way Beca kissed her, like it could be the last every time. How she pulled her down by the neck. She was in love with the way Beca held her, the way they fit together perfectly.

Simply, she was in love with everything that was Beca Mitchell.

(She wished she could say all of it, but she wasn’t brave enough).

//

Beca didn’t plan to fall, not like she did. If there was anything she learned it was that love and hope had a cost. Because someone could prop her up and tell her that she was great and the next day they could be gone. But the first time she saw Emily (really saw her) she knew that she was in love.

She watched Emily write a song on her guitar, sleeves of her button up pulled up past her elbows and her instrument upside down on her back held up by the strap. She watched her play the song in her head, scribble something down before she swung the guitar right side up to rest on her hip and smile to herself as she began to play.

(When she was writing her songs, Beca found her unfathomably beautiful. When Emily looked up at her to find her staring, the songwriter just blushed and bit her lip to try to stop herself from grinning harder).

And yes, Beca could love this. Love the way Emily looked over her shoulder and smiled at her, hummed when she thought nobody was listening, hugged her closer in bed when the alarm went off because she knew that neither of them want to get up.

Beca didn’t plan to fall. But she was damn glad she did. It shook her to her core, that thought. The thought that someone would be able to undo her so quickly.

(She didn’t know that Emily felt the same way).

But she loved the feeling of being wanted. That Emily needed her somehow, just like Beca needed her. That they simply couldn’t exist without the other. How Emily whispered her name into the dark to see if she was awake. How if she looked back on those occasions (she always did) Emily would pull her in into her arms and hold Beca close, then would smile against the back of her neck and nuzzle closer.

Just the way Emily smiled was enough to ruin her. Emily smiled with everything inside her. Her eyes lit up and Beca couldn’t ever find a reason to complain.

She was really in love. And she felt like a teenager all over again. She was in love with the way Emily felt wrapped around her. She was in love with the way Emily played electric guitar. In love with the way it was always slung low on her hips. How incredibly gorgeous it was. How incredibly gorgeous it was to see what someone’s feeling inside. She saw Emily realize, just like her, that she was being understood for the first time. Beca saw the soulfulness of her playing and that was another thing that made her in love. She saw how much Emily had been through, how epically scared and epically trusting she was and how fatal of a combination that could be. She was determined to tame the two sides into coexistence after what she saw within the younger woman. .

Above all, Beca was most attracted to the talent that coursed through the freshman’s veins. Her musicality. Emily understood and loved music in a way that was likened only to her own. It was the calm in the storm for both of them. A comforting, never changing beat, and the reassurance that an E flat would always be an E flat were what Beca loved about music.

(That was what Emily loved about it too).

It was a communication beyond words. It was the reason why Beca fell so hard and so fast. Because she was told that college was when she was going to start loving herself. But it had only been recently that she had been able to. Because of Emily, she had learned how.

She saw the way Emily’s movement across the fretboard got tangled just a bit when she looked up to find Beca so blatantly staring and it made her smile a little bit. She couldn’t help but grin at the fact that she could make someone so beautiful, like Emily, flustered. It gave her the feeling that she was somehow adequate.

She was in love with Emily’s voice, in love with her walk, her emoji filled texts, her writing, how her eyes were a deep coffee brown, how Emily smelled like vanilla and lavender and something she couldn’t put her finger out. She was in love with how Emily’s lips tasted, her laugh, how she danced awkwardly, how Emily felt warm and solid next to her in bed. She was in love with her everything. And if any of her friends from high school saw her (her limited number, she may add) they would laugh at her. But she didnt find it in herself to care anymore.

She loved Emily. She just wished she could say all that out loud. How she didn’t know a lot of things but she did know that when Emily kissed her she felt a little more brave. And how if she’s being honest it wasn’t even that she didn’t plan to fall. It was that she was so caught up in herself before. Before Emily. But now, it was impossible not to appreciate life. Appreciate the smile that greeted her every morning, the kisses, the music they made together. Their unspoken language.

(She wished she could say all that, maybe after three hundred kisses she’d be brave enough).

//

Emily’s still unsure how Beca could’ve fallen for her. Unsure how someone so amazing could’ve even liked her at all.

(Beca felt the same).

She wished she could say how she felt, put it all into words. But even in their shared language it was difficult to say. They made up the words together but were both too scared to be the ones to initiate the creation. Emily wished she could gather herself and begin to put what she felt into words.

(Beca felt the same).

She wanted to express the feeling that her whole life had been rushing towards Beca. That somehow, someway she was the only inevitable thing in Emily’s life. The only part of her life that felt like it was meant to be.

Emily wanted to tell her how in their great unspoken language, Beca was the first person she could really talk to. How real conversations in the language she had dedicated her whole life to were hard to come by. How it felt so right to finally be able to speak. To say everything. And to be understood.

(Beca felt the same).

**Author's Note:**

> comments are loved and appreciated, as always you can find me on tumbr @handsinaca-pitches


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